Peril of the Bells
by Kingofclubs8129
Summary: Most girls have an imaginary friend as a child, but they rarely show up when you're sixteen. So why does Schuyler feel like theres always someone there to talk to?
1. Prologue

I was being followed. It had been happening for a few weeks now. I could feel this presence behind me everywhere I went. It didn't feel hostile, or ominous, just sort of…comfortable. Like the person following me was safe, someone I had known all my life. Currently it was following me to the hospital. The first few times I'd gone to the hospital since the feeling started it had abruptly stopped at the doors, resuming on my exit, as if the shadow behind her was afraid to go in.

After the second week the shadowy feeling had begun to cautiously make its way in. The first time it followed me onto the first floor. Then I felt it as I got out of the elevator on my mothers floor. It was never IN the elevator, presumably because whatever caused it couldn't follow me into such a confined space without being noticed, despite its almost supernatural ability to not be where I knew it was. Sometimes when I looked really hard I saw a small disturbance in the air, but I didn't know if that was my blue blood senses or just paranoia.

Regardless of the feelings cause or its inability to be seen it NEVER entered the hallway of my mothers room. It stopped at the corner and would resume when I left, I hadnt mentioned it to Oliver, or my grandmother. I felt safe with the shadow, special, like it cared about me and watched over me, and I didn't want to share it with anyone.

Sometimes as a game I would leave a sandwich or a drink where I knew it would wait and leave. The sandwich was always gone when I came back, and it made me smile. Over the weeks it was with me they fell into a routine. It would follow me to school, but not inside, would follow me home but then disappear. When I snuck out it took a while for it to reappear, as if it had some way of finding me and knowing when I left but had to actually track me down.

It did NOT follow me into committee meetings, though it occasionally followed me home from them, beginning a certain distance away, as if it was afraid of being spotted. One of my favorite things was to take it to the movies. It always seemed to sit in the front, if indeed it sat at all, I didn't even know if it had legs. But it avoided proximity to the projector, though I wasn't sure why.

Today I had brought it to the hospital again, and waited in the bathroom for what seemed like hours. I thought it might have unfinished business with my mother, because it seemed to avoid her like the plague. I hoped that by waiting in the bathroom it would grow so restless and bored it would go into my mothers room out of desperation to break the monotony. I somehow knew it wouldn't go in when I was there, but I thought it needed some time alone with my mother, this avoidance behavior was certainly not healthy.

After about four hours of intense concentration (during which three separate hospital employees came to see if I was all right and the shadow itself approached the bathroom door before leaving, as if seeing if I was really in there somehow) I finally felt it inch slowly around the corner. During the weeks we'd been together I had developed a feeling for its moods and general location. Like listening for a sound that's always been there but you've never focused on before, the sound of traffic in the big city, or my dog, Beauty in the house. Background noise I had taken for granted but was slowly learning to sort out.

It seemed almost…nervous. Slowly drawing closer to the room. I sat perfectly still with bated breath, I knew it was ridiculous, breathing or moving wouldn't scare it, it was fifty feet away and through several walls, but some irrational part of me wanted it to do this so bad, wanted to help it as it had clearly been trying to help me, wanted to take care of it. I focused harder on the unexplainable direction its feelings came from, and almost fell off the toilet I was sitting crosslegged on when I felt…fear. It was AFRAID, but there didn't seem to be any alarm or anger, just a slow, dragging fear that seemed like it had been building for a while.

I used some of what I'd learned at the committee meeting and tried to visualize myself invisible. Not really invisible, but just ignored ' _Nothing to see here, move along'_ and slowly slipped off my perch and as quietly and stealthily as I could, I slipped around the corner, completely ignored and careful to keep up my stealth. I peeked around the corner quizically, and was…uncertain. My mothers room wasn't empty anymore. A man stood inside. He was ridiculously tall, about six and a half feet, and leaning on a long carved staff, his dark hair reminded her of hers, and his brown eyes were kind and soft…and streaming tears.

My mouth opened in surprise…and I lost my train of thought. Those tear-filled eyes snapped to me and widened and the man smirked a bit in what looked like pride, before muttering a word I couldn't hear and slashing the staff sideways in front of his body and vanishing. I moved at the fastest justifiably human speed I could reach but the door had opened already by the time I reached it and was swinging shut.

I felt him moving away quickly, not as fast as I could move when I was trying but unlike him I wasn't invisible, and I wasn't confident enough in masking my presence to risk the wardens hearing about me running around top speed in midtown new york. I followed him to the stairwell and saw the door bang closed, and by the time I reached it at human speed the door to the next floor was slamming shut. I could try the next floor but searching the whole floor would take an hour, and he'd probably just slip away when someone else opened the door. My face set into a determined scowl, I may have lost him this time, but he was following me for some reason, and I WOULD catch him, and he would tell me who he was, and why seeing my mother made him cry.

 **Greetings new friends and old. King here, this one is something ive been wanting to write for a few years now, as evidenced by my writing prompt for it, and I finally decide to tackle it myself. Let me know what you think, please review, that's where my will to write comes from, for without reviews I fear this would get consigned to the "occasional update only" pile with my other projects. Speaking of if you guys are dresden fans I have several other crossover fics with dresden, feel free to check them out and let me know what you think. I fixed the slight POV issue in the first half. Also feel free to check out my at /Kingofclubs8129. Appreciate it and enjoy.**


	2. Do you believe in magic?

I didn't go back to the hospital to catch my Shadow. I knew he would be on guard there and I wasn't likely to catch him with the same trick again. I still hadnt told Oliver about him, or my grandmother. It had occurred to me a few times that when I fist found out about what I was I had tried to contact my father in that room. The man who had been in there hadnt been the same man I'd seen that first day at the hospital but that didn't mean he wasn't my father.

Something about my Shadow did seem familiar, and with how he looked out for me it wasn't out of the realm of possibility he was my dad. I knew I had to ask but the problem lay in catching him, he had proved impressively resourceful able to dissapear with a word and run incredibly fast for a mortal (if he was one) though that might have been his freakishly long legs.

If I was going to catch him, I'd need to know more about him. Maybe if I had a solid profile like they did on those bad cop dramas, I could work out how he'd react and trap him better. I knew I was being silly, assuming he was my dad for sure, but I just…knew, deep down inside that the Shadow and my father were the same person. If I followed the trail to find out more about my dad I could feel that it would help me catch my Shadow.

I listed off all the things I knew about my father and…very quickly ran out of things to list, my grandmother had told me his name was Stephen Chase but honestly that was barely any help. I had tried researching Stephen Chase and discovered in pretty short order that Stephen Chase is an almost insultingly common name. Upon searching I actually found more Stephen Chases than I did John Smiths, I needed something else to go by.

I decided that the easiest way to find more details would be to check the paper trail. If I could figure out from say, my birth certificate wether my father was there when I was born I could use that to narrow down which Stephen Chase had been at the hospital and work backwards from there. At the very least it might have a middle name or something to narrow it down.

I climbed the creaky old stairs of the mansion with a firm path in mind. It wasn't until I had passed the fourth dust-caked drawing room in the east wing (a wing that only actually has three drawing rooms) that I was forced to deflate somewhat by the realization that I didn't actually know how to get into the attic.

I remembered sneaking in there once as a little girl but Hattie had noticed me missing and gone searching, she discovered me about two minutes after I got up the attic steps and dragged me down to the kitchen where she chewed me out for about an hour and swore if I ever went up there again she'd tell my grandmother straight away.

She had seemed so frantic and upset at the idea of me being hurt up there with no one to find me I had promised never to go in there again. Some things make even little kids steer clear of places they shouldn't be, and Hatties mention of finding my emaciated corpse up there after I fell and broke a leg or something had given me more than a few nightmares.

I suspect my grandmother doesn't want me poking around about my father and had told Hattie so, that pretty much ruled out getting her help finding the attic, and even asking her would tip my hand. I resigned myself to my search and spent about two hours wandering around the house.

The east wing had been more a guess than anything the attic couldve been in the pantry for all I knew (it wasn't, first place I checked) I combed through every inch of the house at my leisure, finding several pretty awful rooms I hadnt known about (one lined with shelves of those creepy porcelain dolls and one full of weird looking antique tribal masks and what may have been at least one shrunken head) before finally managing to find the attic steps in the back of the closet of my mothers bedroom of all places. My grandmother was at her weekly bridge game and Hatties nephew had the chicken pox so she'd left early to watch him for a while to give her sister a few hours of freedom.

The attic steps creaked just as much as I remember them doing and its even dustier than I recalled. The wake from the passage of the trapped door in the ceiling creating a literal cloud of dust, setting me off in a sneezing fit and covering me from head to toe till I probably looked like a ghost having an Asthma attack.

I made it up the creaky steps without incident ( I certainly didn't smash my shin on the third step, no matter what anyone says, because im a Vampire and far too graceful to do such a thing)and set to work searching. After digging around for another thirty minutes I was no closer to my goal unless you counted finding a soapbox derby car, a gramaphone, and what appeared to be a stuffed and mounted Jackalope (I was totally keeping the gramaphone) I finally spied an old steamer trunk nestled away in the corner.

After kicking myself for not immediately looking for such a trunk ( theyre a bad movie cliché for a reason) I unlatched the thing and sat down next to it, getting dust all over my floor length gypsy skirt and not caring even a little. I began to sift through the objects in the trunk and was immeditely entranced.

This trunk has obviously been my mothers. It had all the things you would expect a teenage girl to keep, yearbooks and mementos and concert tickets. The white tea gloves she must have worn when graduating from Duchesne, and finally at the bottom, hidden in a pretty little wooden box, a small, lacy white photo album.

I flipped the album open eagerly desperate to see her and couldn't help the tears that rolled down my face as I took my first look at my mother at my age, a blonde version of me, almost identical but somehow so much more beautiful. She smiled up from so many pictures, labeled carefully in her neat flowing handwriting.

The first picture that caught my eye was my mother smiling next to a tall good looking boy with piercing eyes, the caption read "Allegra and Charles" her smile in that picture was a bit less bright but her eyes were soft and happy and I could tell Charles must have been important to her. The second picture was my mother next to a smaller blonde boy, her eyes seemed almost alight with joy in this one and the caption read "Legs and Ben" her smile was brilliant in that one and the boy, Ben was grinning mischevously as he put rabbit ears up behind her head with two fingers.

The picture that drew me next was a shot of my mother in a park, wearing a blue sundress, and riding on the shoulders of an incredibly tall boy with dark hair, her mouth was open in silent laughter and she had a white-knuckled grip on the collar of his shirt as he appeared to be spinning her in circles trying to make her dizzy.

The caption on this one was "Legs and Harry" I smiled at the sight of my mother so happy and kept flipping, finally stopping at a picture of my mother at a dance. She had a shining sequined silver cocktail dress on and her hair was cascading in soft curls. She stared adoringly up into the face of the same dark haired boy from the park, Harry, wearing a somewhat threadbare dark suit as he gazed back at her ina matching expression of adoration.

I frowned slightly and checked the caption to be sure this wasn't my father and sure enough the caption read "Allegra and Harry", having forgone the affectionate nickname to commemorate the depth of the moments gravity. I wasn't sure who this Harry was but I hadnt seen a reference to a Stephen anywhere in the book of photos. I carefully paged through it again just to be positive and sure enough, no mention.

I went back into the box and sorted through some old school binders and notebooks, finding the odd calendar reference to Harry, Ben, or Charles, but never any reference to Stephen. I found an old leather bound diary but it was locked so I set it aside to try to get into later, focusing on the contents of the box I was almost sure held some kind of answer if I looked hard enough. After about thirty minutes of very thorough reading over each page, I finally found an envelope from the hospital where I was born.

I was exstatic, I knew that this at least would have my fathers name on it, it might even have his middle name. I grinned and pulled out the paper carefully tracing gently over my mother flowing signature cascading down the spot that said mother below it "Allegra Winslow Van Alen" I smiled softly at the beautiful writing and switched over to the spot where my fathers name would be…and froze. My whole perception of my life, for the second time in as many weeks, simply shattered.

Because as I suspected my father had indeed listed a middle name on my birth certificate, in fact he had listed two. But those two names didn't bother me nearly as much as the other two, neither of which were Stephen Chase. There, scratched out in a messy untidy scrawl, were three names I had never heard before, lined up right after one that had been scrawled with love all over my mothers photo album.

"Schuyler Theodora Elizabeth Van Alen, Mother: Allegra Winslow Van Alen, Father: Harry Blackstone Copperfield Dresden."

 **Ok guys I know this wasn't a huge shock to anyone who had seen my original story idea but I'm hoping the execution was good enough to excuse the lack of surprise for those who knew, and good enough to shock the ones who didn't, though honestly it wasn't too hard to guess. I tried to write the shock to Schuyler rather than aiming to shock you guys and hopefully I pulled at least that off well. Anyway this is a good start I think and I'm gonna try to keep momentum by listening to the books so I don't end up not updating for months like I have with some others. Also anyone who enjoys this should check out some of my others and if you have a specific one youde like to see more of shoot me a review and it could help me prioritize my updates a bit. This is King signing out guys and thanks for reading, hope to see a ton of reads and reviews soon.**


	3. Ghost Opera

I was in shock. Who was Harry Dresden? Googling the name didn't help at all, all I found was a used car salesman in Tacoma and some nutbar in Chicago who thought he was a wizard. But the car salesman's middle name was Allen and I couldn't find the wizard guys listed anywhere. I don't know how long I sat there, in the dust, clutching my birth certificate and the only photographs I had ever seen of the man I hadn't even known was my father. I flipped the book back open, rifling through the pages quickly but gently, desperate to find something, anything, to tell me where he might be now. To tell me where he'd always been.

My gaze lingered on the pictures of my parents dancing. He was looking into her eyes so deeply, so obviously in love, just as obviously as she was. His brown eyes were kind and warm, and even at sixteen there were laugh lines at the corners of them. He was a warm person who liked to smile, I could almost feel it. He would've been a good dad, I thought, would've taken me to the movies and the park and all those other places dads take you. I wondered what I'd have been like if I'd had a dad. Would I be more confident, have more friends? Would mom still be awake and here? I had an image of Jack Force picking me up for a dance mom fussing over my hair and dress while my dad stood off to the side and glared at him menacingly.

I'd started crying at some point. I wasn't really an orphan, I had my grandmother and mom wasn't really dead, but when you grow up without parents you learn to kill the part of you that has fantasies like that pretty quickly. You kind of have to, to stay sane. It had been a long time since I'd let myself think about having a dad, and even longer since I'd let myself wonder about why I hadn't. Now I might actually get to…it was an intimidating thought.

I picked up the book and the paper and climbed down from the attic, getting washed and changed out of my dusty clothes and heading down to the kitchen to wait for my grandmother. She arrived home about twenty minutes after I got downstairs, striding confidently and regally into the kitchen. My grandmother was a formidable woman, she always strode, was always confident and regal. She was very much a woman of extremes, even her adjectives were intense. Unlike usual I was in no mood to be submissive or docile. Normally I'm polite and courteous to my grandmother, she's done so much for me, but tonight I was too angry to put on a show.

She must have seen the anger on my face because her expression…well I'd never seen it on her before, it was oddly, well soft is the wrong word but maybe a bit less harsh than normal. That was one of the oddities about my grandmother, when I got upset she tended to be less stern. Most people have guardians that get angry when they get mad but not me, my grandma always seemed to become more calm the angrier I got. Which naturally in this instance mad me even more enraged. I thrust the paper down on the table at her and gestured to it, shooting her a glare.

She looked down at the paper and paled. I didn't stop glaring, but I did finally speak "Would you care to explain who Harry Dresden is, and why I've never heard his name before? You would think I'd be very familiar with it seeing as how its owner comprises half my gene pool." I kept her pinned under my accusing glare, chin jutting out in defiance the way it always did when I got truly angry, my grandmother said I got that from my mother, but who knew if that was even true.

My grandmother sighed and sat down, all the poise and elegance draining away to reveal a woman who seemed tired and for the first time in my life….old. She scowled at the paper and picked it up before turning her furrowed brows to pin me with a stare of her own "I told her not to. Begged her. It's strictly forbidden. We aren't to mix with the mortal magic users. Our existence is a secret from the worlds supernatural community, there are predators out there who could take advantage of our mortal forms to consume our power, and with it added to theirs they could become something truly terrible."

My look of rage turned to one of puzzlement "Wait, mortal magic users? Supernatural community? I was under the impression that the blue bloods were the extent of the supernatural. If there are other things why don't we know about them? Why don't we see them?" My grandmother, Cordelia I suppose, I was too angry to grant her the leniency her honorific would subconsciously lend to her actions in my mind. I had the sudden urge to stick out my tongue at her but didn't because it would've been ridiculous. Just gave a lazy shrug.

She acted like it was no big deal at all "For the same reason red bloods don't see us. You don't look. Despite our seclusion we are signatories of the unseelie accords and that grants us certain rights. There are a few cities, New York being one of them, that supernatural creatures are…discouraged from visiting. Nothing so overt as an outright ban, they do occasionally show up, but the major players in the accords do their best to steer their interests away from town and without anything exciting going on theres just no reason to visit. When the occasional vampire from one of the courts or wizard wanders by they leave us in peace. In our twilight years we may be vulnerable but the aged among us are quite formidable."

I processed all this new information slowly "Ok, so theres a supernatural community, we can come back to that, why is it forbidden for us to interact with them? Especially the magic users, wouldn't they just be unusually powerful red bloods? I'd think they would make excellent familiars." Not that I would've tried to take one as a familiar, it just didn't seem like the Committee to pass on a status symbol like that. They were too obsessed with image.

Cordelia made a sawing gesture with her hand, the universal sign for not exactly "Yes and no. Yes their blood is interesting, but its also…unpredictable. Mortal magic doesn't mix with our power well, mortal mages wizards don't come through often so we don't bring it up until the full initiation ceremony but the reason we discourage consorting with wizards is because drinking magical blood can cause blue bloods to become…strange. Sometimes it doesn't do anything, sometimes it makes them stronger, and sometimes it makes them crazy. No way to tell which one it will be, so we just avoid the temptation. Allegra did not."

My eyes widened "Wait. My dad is a wizard? Named Harry? Seriously? No wait that's not the point. I found a Harry Dresden in Chicago listed as a wizard in the phone book but I assumed he was just crazy. Is that really him? Don't wizards have to keep a low profile to avoid detection?" I had questions but I was so excited I couldn't sit still, that site for Harry Dresden wizard hadn't been old at all! My father might still be alive! Cordelia was even making it sound like there was a rational reason I'd been kept away from him, maybe I could find him!

She rolled her eyes. My grandmother, Cordelia Winslow Van Alen, the iron matron of park avenue, actually rolled her eyes. "Yes that's him. That boy was always a bit of an oddball." But I could see a fond smile attempt to quirk one corner of her lip, which was pretty much the Cordelia equivalent of having gotten bestie tattoos with him. "When your mother became pregnant she got scared of what the Committee would do to him. You see Schuyler nephilim, the children of mortals and angels, did exist in the past, though their birth has long been forbidden, but none of those children had a mother who was an archangel, and none of the mortal parents were contenders for the top ten most powerful wizards on the planet and possible descendants of Merlin himself."

I stared in shock, first that I was half mortal, I hadn't even known that was possible, secondly that my father was possibly descended from Merlin, and was so powerful. My powers from my mothers side were impressive, especially for my age, but with power like that on top of it… Cordelia nodded "Now you see, your mother feared should the Committee learn of your birth they might have you killed. For being a nephilim alone they would've been within their rights to demand your death, but what you are…it beggars the imagination how strong you may become. Or you may just stay as you are, there is no way to be sure. I have watched for signs of the madness mortal magic brings some of us, but have seen none in you, more than that only time will tell."

I locked my eyes with hers "But what about my father, I understand leaving so they didn't kill us both but couldn't he have written? We could've talked on the phone or met in secret. Why did I grow up not even knowing his name?" I had missed so much, I knew why, it was even a halfway decent reason, but only halfway.

Cordelia shook her head "Your mother didn't tell him. Harry was always a stubborn boy. His own parents are gone, his mother died in childbirth and his father was lost to him at a young age, he grew up in foster care and had he known of you he would've been completely unable to stay away. Allegra decided not to tell him of your birth. She said his name on your birth certificate just…showed up. A pretty red haired nurse handed it to her and his name was already filled out. Your mother wanted to ask about it but the nurse just disappeared."

She looked almost sad now, again not a look I was accustomed to from her "Harry was a kind boy, we didn't know he was a wizard until much later. Our kind have no gift for sensing the magic of red bloods. If we had known we would've stopped Allegra from spending time with him, she always did do things her own way. Honestly even I liked the boy, and I don't like many." She really didn't, it said a lot for his character.

There were so many thoughts to sort through. I had so much new information to sift in my head. One thing still confused me though, buzzing through my addled brain like a swarm of angry bees "So if my dad is alive, then who is the ghost that's been following me around?"

 **Ok guys sorry if this was a bit of an infodump but I needed some backstory, that should help establish the world pretty well. This is day 5 of my 7 days 7 stories plan. As with the others please read and review as many of my stories as youre able I appreciate and of either. Cant wait to hear from you guys. Also Harry is obviously not a ghost, this is POV Schuyler has no clue how magic works. Plus shes a bit shaken.**


	4. AN

Hey guys working sorry its been a while but I've been working on other things. Just finished publishing my first original novel. Its on Amazon and its called Mortal Spin by Morgan Landyss. If you like my writing style feel free to check it out.


	5. Lies My Parents Told Me

I've lived with my grandmother for my entire life. I've seen her cold and distant, I've seen her snappish and irate, I've even seen her wistful, on a few very rare occasions, but I've never seen my grandmother stunned before. I quite enjoyed seeing my grandmother stunned. Her mouth hung open, gaping like a fish, before she threw her head back and started to laugh.

It must have shown on my face, my confusion, or my suspicion that she had gone insane, because when she looked at me she just laughed harder. It took her five minutes to calm down. Five whole minutes! When she eventually managed to catch her breath, she looked…younger, younger than I'd ever seen her in my life. I'd always seen her as this wise and implacable woman, seeing her now I knew why she was so powerful in our community.

She looked vital and strong. She gave me a smile "I'm sorry, that's just exactly like him. I always liked that boy, even if I made sure he thought otherwise, almost in spite of myself. Showing up somewhere he's supposed to know nothing about and slipping around unnoticed beneath the view of the whole committee when there's a blue blood serial killer on the loose putting everyone on high alert is just like him." She must have seen my eyebrows wrinkle "No, my dear I'm not saying it's him. I suspect I know what's happening even if no one else does, or at least is willing to admit it. The killer is no mortal, mage or otherwise, but that's a discussion for another time."

That eased the sudden worry in my chest. I hadn't even considered the timing of my fathers (and I was now almost certain it was him, the boy in the photos bore a striking resemblance to the tall man in the hospital) arrival and the murders that surrounded it. My grandmother was a smart woman though, and not prone to sentimentality, if she said it couldn't be him I believed her, and I was relieved. Another thought creased my brow with worry though "But what if he gets caught, if the committee finds out who he is?"

My grandmother shook her head "It won't be an issue, even if they knew he was your father, which we were very careful that they would not, they couldn't do anything to Harry. They could and would do something to you, but Harry is a citizen of a foreign power, and though he isn't much impressed with the white council of wizards, he is under their protection and that's a matter of pride for them. No, Allegra and your self would be the only ones in danger, and as she is asleep following your birth you are the one we need to watch out for. The committee is aware of the circumstances of your birth but not the details, that's why we always told you your father was Stephen Chase, children let things slip, and in this case that could be fatal."

I nodded at that "That makes sense, so I can interact with him, assuming I can find him, as long as I don't let the committee find out he's my real father? That shouldn't be too hard. Of course I haven't been able to catch him yet. He's sneaky, he can turn invisible and he's just so tall!" I knew I was pouting now and didn't care, if I was a bit less dignified I'd have stomped my foot. My father was here, in the city, and he wouldn't let me get close. He got to see me but I couldn't see him. It wasn't fair!

My grandmother laughed at that "He always was a big one. I cant tell you how to catch him. I suspect with me around it would be impossible. He's been practicing magic full time for longer than you've been alive, and has always had a tendency to do the unexpected. He certainly set me back a step when I met him. Of all the boys Allegra could've brought home I didn't expect her to choose a vagrant." She chuckled at the look of surprise on my face "Your father had some sort of trouble with his guardian when he was sixteen. He never talked about it but I got the feeling he was running from something. I suspect he came to New York for the very reason most supernaturals avoid it. In any case, my dear, I've had a long day, as have you, we should get some rest."

I was still too shaky to argue so I nodded to her and headed up to my room. I was heading to bed but not to sleep. I knew one more place to get answers. I still had the journal I had found in the steamer trunk shoved in a pocket. I changed into my pajamas and flopped into my bead, pulling my comforter around myself, and stared at the book. It was old but well cared for leather, with a nice patina from years of aging in the trunk. The front of it caught my attention. Rather than a key, it appeared to be locked with a metal plate, the hole on the front in the shape of a heart.

With a start I recognized the design and reached into my shirt, pulling out the necklace that was the only memento I had of my mother. The shining heart shaped, golden locket my grandmother had given me for my thirteenth birthday as my mother had said she'd wanted before the coma. Without taking it off I carefully pressed it to the indentation, my breath catching in anticipation when I heard the click of the catch opening, and the cover fell open to reveal the first page.

 _My Dearest Schuyler,_

 _If you're reading this you're at least thirteen. If you found this some time ago and are using the key the same day you got it, happy birthday. I can't put into words how much I wish I was there, how much I wish I could see how beautiful you've become, how strong I know you're going to be. If you found this book, you must have found your birth certificate. You must have seen the photos and you must be so confused._

 _The first thing I want to ask is that you not blame Cordelia. She was following my wishes by hiding the truth from you, for reasons I will divulge in the rest of this book. The second thing I ask is that if you haven't joined the Committee that you close this book and open it again once you're a member. I know that doesn't make sense to you now, but it's of the utmost importance if you're going to understand the things I'm going to write about._

 _The third and final thing I ask, no beg, is your forgiveness. I've done so much to hurt our family, you and your father both, and all I wish is that I had been able to think of another way to keep you both safe. Harry may hate me for what I've done, as may you. I deprived you of the family you deserved for years, and I fear that may be the one thing even he may not be able to forgive me for._

 _I wish we all could've been together, wish I could've seen the look on Harry's face when he found out I was pregnant, or watched him pace around like an idiot in the delivery room. I wish we'd gotten to see your first steps, and hear your first word, and taken you to school on your first day, both of needing to go because Harry would've been completely unable to leave his little girl and I would've had to drag him out. It is my fondest wish that someday, things may change, that I can wake up and Harry can know about you and the three of us can be together and be a family._

 _Regardless of all of that, before you read these entries, before you read the story of what happened and how your father and I met and fell in love and before you understand just what it is I took from you, there is one thing above all else you need to know. I'm sure Cordelia has been taking good care of you and making sure you're fed and clothed, but I'm also sure that you've also felt alone, growing up without us in that big house. You are not alone. You are the daughter of Allegra Van Alen and Harry Dresden, and you, Schuyler Van Alen, are loved._

 _Your biggest fan, Mom._

It took me a few minutes of staring at the page, hand over my mouth, to notice the tears. I was crying, big fat wracking sobs. My grandmother had always told me, had always made sure I knew my mother loved me, but she'd always been this far distant figure. This, cold presence eternally sleeping far away in a tower. But now I could feel her, like she was reading over my shoulder, I could feel her there, watching over me.

Still crying I scrambled out of bed, putting on my clothes quickly, not caring what I wore, just needing to get dressed and get outside. I slipped down the stairs as quickly as I could without making too much noise and slipped out the door. I ran out to the sidewalk, Beauty following behind me, and stood there for about five minutes until I felt that familiar presence. And in the middle of the sidewalk I fell to my knees, and in a voice choked with tears gasped out, just loud enough to be heard on the street but not enough to make it all the way to all those huge park avenue mansions so close yet so far away "Daddy!"

 **Ok guys, this was a really emotional chapter, I have something of a new plan for a direction on this one, as I always mention please review, as it does help me write more, though I think I'll start getting more views once I get a higher word count. Cant wait to hear what everyone thinks, hope you liked it.**


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